Gilbo Snaffast Buckborough
by PippinStrange
Summary: Gilbo Snaffast Buckborough, a hobbit in a mixed family, being relation to Tooks, Brandybucks, and Snaffast, has naught better to do than to steal from Farmer Maggot. This time, however, he'll be caught. Better than it sounds.


_**The Story of a Hobbit**_

_Gilbo Snaffast Buckborough_

Once upon a time there was a hobbit named Gilbo. He was of the age of twenty-three, just out of his tweens, and nearing the age of thirty-three, that being a hobbit adult. He was of the Took family on his mother's side and the Snaffast on his father's side. When his father died and his mother remarried into the Buckborough family, a branch of the Brandybuck, he was then Gilbo Buckborough. Of the Buckborough family he will remain to be called, but Snaffast stays as his middle name.

Gilbo loved the Shire. He loved romping through its green hills and low dells and woody valleys. But… overall, he was very troublesome. He often snuck to Farmer Maggots to steal mushrooms. He pestered other hobbits and went to the Green Dragon and caused fights. It was only when he was somewhere in the quiet woods or valleys of the Shire, that was rather uninhabited, that he would be quite a different hobbit.

One night, he went to the Green Dragon. He met up with his half-n-half cousin, as he was always called, Peregrin (Pippin) Took.

"Good Evening, Gilbo!" called Pippin.

Gilbo gave a small nod, embarrassed to see his older cousin there, since he wasn't quite old enough to have what the Green Dragon had to serve.

"Come have a cup of tea with me," said Pippin, his eyes showing that he knew fully well what Gilbo had been up to.

"Tea?" said Gilbo. "What would _you _be drinkin'?"

"Why, tea of course." Said Pippin. "I try to set good examples for me younger cousins."

Gilbo rolled his eyes and held in a tempting splurge of laughter. He _also _knew in turn that Pippin was the worst Took case for getting too carried away at any nearby inns. Pip always had been his special pal, they always drank too much together. Ever since Pippin had returned from a terrible long journey, drove away the Ruffians that had taken over the Shire—he seemed so old! So responsible! So mature!

They sat at the counter and drank their tea in a strange silence. With their backs to the door, they were startled when the door-bell dinged and the door was thrown open with a crash.

"Has anyone seen Gilbo Buckborough?" shouted Farmer Maggots voice.

A few hobbits stirred and pointed to the counter. Pippin looked at Gilbo quickly, his eyebrows furrowed and whispered, "What 'ave you _done…!" _

"Nothin'!" said Gilbo.

A hand clamped down on Gilbo's shoulder and turned him around on the spinning stool.

"Here's my thief!" growled Farmer Maggot. "He's been in my Mushrooms again!"

"It wasn't me!" exclaimed Gilbo. "You have no proof!"

"Gilbo…" began Pippin.

"My _dogs _tracked you here, young hobbit!" snapped Farmer Maggot.

"Perhaps it was someone else?" asked Pippin, not entirely hopeful.

"No, it could not have been." Said Farmer Maggot. He grabbed Gilbo's foot and lifted it. "See the marks on his pants? Someone knocked over a section of my fence!"

"What kind of fence?" demanded Pippin.

"Barbed Wire," said Farmer Maggot firmly. "See the tears in his pants? And here—" he pulled the edge of his pants up on his right leg, revealing fresh scratches and bleeding cuts from the wire. "See? Proves my very point!"

"Oh, Gilbo!" said Pippin. "Why were you doing that…?"

Gilbo jerked out of Farmer Maggot's grasp and crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. He did not answer, nor look at them.

"What do you propose we do?" Pippin said sternly, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Punish him!" said Farmer Maggot. "Keep him under a tight rein. Or better yet, have 'im come work at my place to make up for 'is damage."

"I think that is a good idea," said Pippin, nodding. "How long should he stay with you to make up for the trouble he's caused?"

"A week and no more." Farmer Maggot said, "I'll take 'im with me now. Peregrin, you can run along and tell his _poor _mother." He glared at Gilbo. "Just imagine your new stepfather's disappointment in you. No goodbyes and no visitors while on my place."

Gilbo looked down and Pippin stiffened.

"Heaven help you," said Farmer Maggot shrewdly, "If they be so angry they disown you or something like that."

Gilbo put his hands over his ears and scrunched up his face.

"_That _is enough!" said Pippin sternly. "You will take him home and make him work hard, but no going beyond. You must direct neither lectures nor hurtful words towards him. The labor is punishment enough."

"Very well… get up, Gilbo. We'll be leavin' now."

"I'll run pack you some things and send them by way of Frodo to you before tomorrow," called Pippin after them, as the bar door slammed shut.

That night, late and almost into the next morning, Gilbo and Farmer Maggot arrived in the cold hour before dawn at the farm. Gilbo was exhausted from the long walk and trying to keep up with Farmer Maggot's long strides.

Gilbo collapsed with sleep on a tiny cot in the kitchen.

"Now see that you stay there," said Farmer Maggot, "Until I wake you. Sleep tight now, and while you're here, _stay out of my mushrooms!" _He left muttering something about that young Frodo Baggins and Pippin Took and stolen mushrooms.

Gilbo nodded and fell into the blankets, fast asleep.

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Only a few minutes later, or so it seemed, Gilbo was being shaken awake.

"Mama… let me sleep…" he muttered, burrowing into the flour-sack pillow.

"Get up, Mr. Buckborough." Mrs. Maggot shook him some more. "Mr. Maggot is already eating. I've made some breakfast for you, and then you must go to work."

Gilbo stumbled with sleep to the small table and ate the oatmeal and tea. Mrs. Maggot watched with pity. "I can get you a bit of coffee, lad, before you start. You can sit awhile and wake yourself up."

Gilbo nodded thankfully and chugged down the coffee. With a grateful thanks and complimenting her for a lovely breakfast, he met Mr. Maggot by the woodshed.

Mr. Maggot gave him a long, long list of things to do. First, he must chop this wood here and stack it just so. Then he must weed the cabbage patch, and write in an inventory to see how much corn they had to sell to Hobbiton and Buckleburry. Then the corn had to be picked. Then it was time for lunch, and a quick rest. After, he had to build fires in all the bedrooms because evening was on its way. Then he had to water the tomatoes and dig up eight potatoes for Mrs. Maggot.

Gilbo sat up out of the potato patch and wiped sweat from his forehead. Hearing cheerful whistling, he peered towards The Road to see another hobbit strolling along it. He ran towards the split rail fence to greet Meriadoc Brandybuck.

"Hullo, Merry!" he called. Remembering Mr. Maggot's warning to have no visitors, he lowered his voice to a whisper, "What ARE you doing here? I'm in 'exile', remember?"

"Just bringin' you a change of clothes for the week," said Merry. "Frodo would have come, but he's running for Mayor, you know."

Gilbo laughed. "It's okay. I don't mind you coming… the older hobbits, Frodo for instance, act all 'pityish' and all they do is feel sorry for you."

Merry nodded thoughtfully. "I understand." He handled a bundle of clothes over the rail. "I'd best be off before Mr. Maggot sees me and sets' the dogs on me." He laughed. "I'm actually a good friend of his. Frodo used to be afraid of him, but our little journey cured him for that. Most only see his ugly side."

Gilbo smiled. "And I."

"You don't like him?"

"LIKE him? He's 'condemned' me to working on his stupid farm. This blasted place is gettin' on my nerves, Merry. I hate it here."

"I'm sorry, Gilbo. I really must go…" Merry patted his shoulder and turned away. "I'll see you sometime next week when you come back to Brandy Hall."

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Gilbo worked hard over the next week. When it was finally the day before the week was filled out and he could go home, he was quite a professional farmer. That night, just like all the other nights, he dropped into bed exhausted and fell asleep. The next morning, Mr. Maggot was waiting by the door. "You've worked well," he said. "The help has brought more money in than we ever have—and we've needed it, being so poor. But…" he pulled a little bag of silver coins from his pocket. "Here is a little something to show how much we appreciated you coming."

"But…" Gilbo protested. "I can't… I _can't _accept the money. I was here to work as punishment from stealing from you. Why should you pay me?"

"You have worked hard," said Farmer Maggot. "You have never complained. Take it."

"It would be even more dishonest for me to take this—it would be like stealing from you again."

Farmer Maggot put his hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps you have learned something from this, Gilbo. You have worked hard, you will be paid. I shall forget that you ever stole from me, if you will." He thrust the bag into his hands. "You may go."

Gilbo stammered a shocked and quiet 'thank-you' and made his way outside. Farmer Maggot watched him go from the door. Gilbo turned and said quietly, "I don't think I shall come back…I think I shall grow my own mushrooms."

Farmer Maggot nodded in understanding, a cheeky grin spreading across his weathered face. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Gilbo trotted down the lane, feeling a bit different. Working wasn't so hard. Pestering the Farmer didn't exactly have a reward.

"I daresay I've given up my frolicking, pestering ways for good," he said. "Perhaps Pippin will buy an ale or two to celebrate."

His conscience began to protest. Some habits just die hard.

"Fine, fine!" Gilbo muttered to himself. "Tea."

**THE END**


End file.
